Dismal Angel Episode 12: Silver & Snow
by AngelExposed
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and things aren't smooth for Rogue and Remy. When Professor Xavier takes everyone out for dinner, Rogue and Remy are at each others throats blaming each other for their break up (FINISHED)
1. Chapter 1: Tension

Chapter 1: Tension

             Rogue hated Christmas – with a passion.  Never before had she hated Christmas so much, but this year, things were…slightly different.  Despite the large beautiful Christmas tree in the foyer, and the garlands hanging from the walls and the ceilings, Rogue didn't feel inspired by the holiday.

             In fact, it only depressed her further.

             Stuck in the Mansion with Professor Xavier, Logan, Hank McCoy and worse of all, Remy LeBeau, on what was meant to be one of the most special nights of the year, seemed like some sort of torture.  

             She was reminded of a Christmas last year when she'd known how she'd felt about Scott Summers, and been unable to do anything about it other than daydream.  But this?  This was different.  Daydreams might have been reality with Remy LeBeau, had she not chosen the inappropriate answer to his question.  In short, he'd asked her to make a decision, be with him now, or never be with him.  She'd chose to never be with him, now finding herself why, and kicking herself for having decided so soon.  

             Now, as she stood from the top of the hall glancing over the balcony overlooking the foyer,  watching Remy doodling tiny cartoons on the cast in his arm as he sat at the bottom of the stairs, she pined once again, as she had for the last three months having waited for him to come home.

             She'd so been looking forward to Christmas until the abduction four nights ago, the thought that this year she might have someone to share it with had excited her, thrilled her, the thought of sitting before a cosy fire, snuggling up against Remy and watching the flames burn and listening to them crackle had warmed her inside.  Now, the thought simply made her ache.  

             Rogue had been lost in her thoughts, daydreaming about what could have been, and thinking of what she should have said to him instead of what she had.  She was so lost in those thoughts, that the ringing of the phone on the table behind her in the upstairs hallway caught her off guard and she jumped, with a loud gasp.

             Remy heard the phone, but only turned when he heard her gasp, and he looked at her, "phone," he said simply, and almost coldly, then got up and walked away.

             Rogue mentally kicked herself and swore at herself angrily, she reached for the phone and picked it up, "Hello?"

             "Rogue?  Oh my gosh!  You're actually back – we didn't know where you were, you were gone when I left…I was so worried…oh my god, what happened?  Why do you sound so depressed?!  Did something happen?  Is Remy not back yet?" Kitty Pryde's voice came blasting at her full force like pellets, reminding her of everything she'd already rather forget. 

             "Do you take SPEED just so you can talk that fast?" Rogue queried, she leaned on the banister railing casually, eyeing the archway Remy had left through.

             "You'd think, but no, really, I'm just hyper," Kitty stated.

             "There's a change," Rogue said sarcastically.

             "You know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit?" Kitty said, sounding smug.

             "Whatever."  
             "So…where were you?  I was really worried," Kitty said.

             Rogue relayed the story in full – leaving out only about Remy giving her the bottle of serum after their escape.  Kitty listened patiently, and at the end took a deep breath, sounding perhaps a little jarred.

             "So…you're saying…he slept with Bella Donna…" Kitty trailed off.

             "Yeah," Rogue felt furious every time she thought about it, she had to admit though, having talked about it to Kitty had made her feel so much better.  

             "What an asshole," Kitty hissed, "no wonder you broke up with him, I don't blame you."

             Rogue would have hugged Kitty right then if she'd been there, the fact that Kitty had agreed with her and backed up her decision made her feel less alone than she had before. "Thanks…"

             "Do you think you'll get back together with him?" Kitty queried.  

             "Not really…" Rogue sighed, "he seemed…upset with me…and he did give me a now or never ultimatum, remember?" 

             Kitty paused a moment on the other end of the phone, "so…how are you guys dealing with being stuck together over the holidays?"

             "Ugh," Rogue sighed, "Since we got back he's just totally ignored me…or been a prick," she commented.

             "It'll blow over, it just needs time," Kitty said, "I don't know too much about relationships but I know break ups sting for the first few days," she admitted.  "Everyone knows that."

             "This breakup is like acid on a raw wound," Rogue frowned, "Kitty, I can't help thinkin' I made a mistake…"

             "Of course," Kitty made it seem like this was completely natural, "a sort of post-break up regret," she explained, "the sort of 'was I right to break up with him', and 'did I say the right thing', and 'should I have just let him do all the talking'," Kitty rambled.

             "It's like you're reading my mind," Rogue sighed.

             "Trust me, it goes away," Kitty said, "after I realised me and Lance were goin' nowhere I used to ask myself the same dumb questions…"

             Rogue chewed the inside of her cheek, "Yeah."

             "Oh, I gotta go…but I'll see you on New Years Eve," Kitty giggled in a bubbly way, "Merry Christmas."

             "Yeah, Happy Hanukah," Rogue replied, remembering Kitty was Jewish.  

             Rogue hung up the phone and placed it back onto the cradle on the little table in the hallway, she sighed, and leaned against the banister.  She wished she had the power to turn back time, and yet found herself wondering that even if she had would she have changed anything, or unknowingly said the same things?  

             She sighed, this was going to be one lonely Christmas.

             Rogue lay on her bed glancing up to the ceiling, it was dark in her room – even though it was only six-thirty pm.  She had a few large pillar candles lit – they stood on her bedside cabinet.  Near the window she had a few incense sticks lit and the room was thick with the smell of burning wood and jasmine, filling her senses.

             She had almost nodded off into an uneasy sleep when there was a very sharp knock at her bedroom door, sharp and loud.  She sat up, folding her legs and resting her elbows on her knees, "c'mon in," she said.  She prayed it would be Remy – yet it wasn't.  

             Hank McCoy slipped into the room in a very quiet graceful way that carried his large size with such ease, he glanced over to her, holding onto the top of the door with one of his large blue furred hands, "Rogue, we're all going out for dinner," he stated.

             "Have fun," Rogue waved him off.

             "No, I don't think you understand, you have to come also," Hank stated. 

             "But I really don't feel like being with everyone right now."

             "The professor demands your presence, kiddo," Hank walked over, he sat on the bottom of her bed, she felt the bed buckling under his enormous weight, it sloped to one side, and she felt as if she'd topple over.

             Rogue steadied herself, "fine.  Where are we going?"

             "Paris Avec l'Amour," Hank stated, "its exclusive, you know."

             "Oh wonderful, so I have to dress up?" She queried.

             "Yes…" Hank nodded, he patted her shoulder, "Be ready in half an hour?"

             "I'll try my hardest," Rogue shrugged.

             "Good girl," Hank smiled, and got up, the bed bounced back up from under his weight and shook Rogue almost violently off the bed as he did.  He smiled once again, and left the room.

             Rogue smiled faintly when he left, but then the emptiness in her heart returned, Remy would be there, and not only that, but in a French restaurant, he would surely order his food in French, being a complete jerk by showing off.  

             Sighing to herself, and headed to the closet to find something to wear.  


	2. Chapter 2: Enchanting

Chapter 2: Enchanting

             Rogue came down the stairs at exactly 7pm, as she did, the grandfather clock in the hall chimed.  Remy LeBeau was leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for Hank, Logan and Professor Xavier to arrive – waiting for anyone but Rogue.  However, despite he didn't really want to look at her at all right now, when she came down the stairway wearing what she was, he could barely breathe from the shock of how beautiful she looked – more beautiful than he thought he'd ever seen her.

             She was wearing a long, black velvet dress with thin spaghetti straps holding it off her milky white shoulders, a pair of elegant black laced gloves that continued all the way up her arms protected her arms from the chance of any accidental touch, and she had a fine silvery shawl, that sparkled only very slightly when she moved.  Her hair pinned and twisted in an exotic style with many tiny sparkling butterfly clips, and her face was tainted with only a trace of mascara and pale pink eyeshadow, her lips were a soft glistening pink.  

             Rogue looked down at him, she could see by the look on his face he had not expected her to look this way, in fact, she'd barely thought she would look this way herself, but it was Christmas eve, and she wanted to make an effort to look nice for the occasion, this was a very exclusive restaurant and she didn't want people staring at her any more than they had to – the white streak would be enough to gain stares, but any gothic wear would probably make her the centre of unwanted hostile attention in such a place.

             Remy himself looked very smart, his hair tied back save the few bangs and tresses that weren't long enough to fit into the hair tie, he wasn't donning his black leather trench coat.  He was wearing a black suit – one that she decided looked like a designer suit – with a black shirt, no tie. He was clean shaven apart from his goatee.  A lit cigarette dangled from his mouth, he didn't take his eyes off of her.  Their eyes met, Rogue took her eyes off of him quickly.

             Hank McCoy came wandering out of an archway, Rogue didn't recognise him at first, and it wasn't because he was wearing a smart suit and tie, but rather the fact that the image transducer – like the one Kurt always wore – had made him look like his previous more human looking self rather than the blue furred Beast everyone knew and loved.  

             "Wow, Hank, lookin' very dapper there," Rogue leaned on the banister at the bottom of the stairs, she smirked and pretended to totally ignore Remy and the effort he'd made to look good.

             "Why, thank you," Hank gave a gracious pretentious bow, and smirked, "but look at you – you're certainly going to have every young mans eyes on you tonight, I've never seen you look so enchanting," he smiled.

             Rogue smirked, "thanks," she felt her cheeks flush slightly from all the attention, she hadn't expected anyone to tell her she looked enchanting at all.

             "Remy, what have I told you about smoking in the Mansion?" Professor Xavier moved in his wheelchair, having appeared from the same archway Hank had.  Professor Xavier looked smart and sensible as ever in a dark grey suit.

             "Sorry," Remy sighed, he rolled his dark eyes and glanced around looking for someone to stub it out, finding nowhere, he opted for the vase of fresh flowers nearby, and dropped the cigarette into it, listening to it hiss as it hit the water at the bottom.  

             "And there will be no smoking in Paris Avec l'Amour either," Professor Xavier stated firmly.  "It is a very exclusive restaurant."

             Remy didn't comment, he held his tongue.  They all glanced to the archway as the final resident of the Mansion – Logan – appeared from the doorway.  Rogue had never seen Logan in a suit before, she couldn't believe how incredibly handsome he was after a shave, and combing his hair.  His grey suit accentuated his broad shoulders, although did unfortunately did nothing for his height.

             "Wow, Logan, you clean up real good," Rogue smirked.

             "Shaddup," Logan made a face, "I hate dressin' up," He muttered, "this is so uncomfortable," he said, he flexed his shoulders a little and made a face.  His shoulders seemed almost too broad for the suit.

             "Oh stop complainin'," Rogue came down from the final step, "you don't know nothing about bein' uncomfortable," Rogue said, "My pantyhose are cuttin' my circulation off so bad my feet are probably turnin' blue, and my thong is so far up my—"  Rogue hadn't realised what she was saying at first, Remy's eyes flitted up to her – and for that matter so did every one else's – a complete look of shock passed round.  "I'm kidding," Rogue quickly commented, she felt her cheeks turn pink, and looked away.

             "Hail the queen of yeast infections," Remy gestured towards Rogue, and gave a mock bow and wave.

             Professor Xavier looked most unimpressed with the humour – or Rogue's comment about the Thong. 

             Rogue mentally kicked herself for saying that, she demanded of herself why she had.  One of those things she'd never be able to understand.

             "Shall we leave then?" Hank broke the strange uncomfortable silence.

             "Yes, lets," Professor Xavier said hurriedly.

             They headed outside, the biting cold wind caught Rogue unprepared, she shivered, and wished she'd brought a shawl warmer than the flimsy sheer one she had.  Snow drifted down from the sky in large flakes, it touched her bare cheeks, and she quivered, the touch sweet but cold.

             A black stretch limousine was waiting outside for them, Rogue was thoroughly impressed, "what's the occasion?" She asked, glancing to the professor.

             "It's Christmas Eve, Rogue," Professor Xavier smiled, "and what better to take us all to the most exclusive restaurant in Bayville but a stretch limousine?" he queried.

             Rogue smirked, "You're just full of surprises," she nudged his shoulder gently in a playful way.

             After all piling into the Limo, they were on their way, Paris Avec l'Amour was quite a distance away from the Mansion, and the drive was long, and seemed even longer due to heavy traffic, and thick snow coming down from the sky.

             Rogue avoided looking at Remy, even though she was sitting right next to him in the Limo.  She could already smell the faint scent of the cologne he always wore, it caught her so off guard, and reminded her of times she'd been so close she could breathe it in fondly.  She wished for times like that again, but reminded herself it wasn't going to happen.

             Professor Xavier sat on the opposite side of the Limo, he pushed the button to close the partition between the driver and them, he then looked at them all sternly, "I know you're not stupid, but I do want to make clear the fact that we should not mention the word 'mutant' tonight, under ANY circumstances," he stated.

             "Of course," Rogue gave a vague nod, her eyes focused on the snow falling outside.

             "I know some of you are feeling melancholy lately, I do not need to be a telepath to know this – I see it on your faces," he glanced towards Rogue, then Remy, his statement focused on them in particular, "but I am sure after a wonderful meal, you'll all soon be feeling fine again," he added.

             Rogue felt Remy's eyes glance to her, and she didn't dare turn to look back.  She wished she were telepathic, like Professor Xavier, and right at that moment she could have read his mind, and wondered what he was thinking.  

             "Do you know how to dance?" Hank asked of Rogue.

             Rogue turned towards him, "Dance in what way…"

             "Ballroom dancing, silly," Hank teased, "fine music, a large dance floor, and a little wine and I may just need to teach you a two step," he joked.

             Rogue smirked a little, "I'd probably step on your foot…" she shook her head, "I don't really dance…"

             There was a strange silence, and Hank was about to speak, but before he had the chance, Remy spoke for the first time he had since getting into the limo.  "Yes you do."

             Rogue turned and looked at him, her mouth dropped, "Huh?" her voice quivered.

             "Well, I can think of three occasions you danced with me…" he remarked.  "Your sixteenth birthday," he said, "You danced with me to…what's that song by Usher?  'U got it bad'?" He queried, "And then the time I—"

             Rogue looked at him warningly, she knew if he mentioned the other two times she'd danced with him – both when she'd been drinking and in an over 21's nightclub – she'd be in more serious trouble than she ever had been.  Logan knew about those times, sure, but the Professor did not and she didn't like the chances of a grounding for stupid mistakes made several months earlier.  "And then the other times in the rec room," she cut in quickly, the lie had come to her in a second, it had seemed like such a good idea.

             "I don't remember that," Remy remarked, looking out of the other window.

             Rogue felt her cheeks go scarlet, suddenly the desire to be with him and be held by him had been replaced by the desire to punch him square in the face.  She swore at him in her thoughts, and wondered if he had the ability to read her mind.  

             "Is there something we should know about?" Professor Xavier asked, noting the anger in Rogue's face and the smugness in Remy's expression.

             "Nothing at all," Rogue replied, "He's just being a jerk," Rogue remarked.

             "Bitch," Remy muttered under his breath.

             "Asshole," Rogue retorted, folding her arms stubbornly.

             "That will be quite enough of that," Professor Xavier used a haughty tone.  "Whatever your problem is with each other, I expect you to deal with it in a civilised way – without the use of cursing, without the use of raised voices, and without the use of fists," he glanced at Rogue, she realised he must have read her mind.

             The Limo pulled to a stop on a busy street outside of a large building with an awning and a doorman outside.  They were there.


	3. Chapter 3: Your Fault

Chapter 3: Your Fault

             The restaurant was more lavish and plush than even Rogue could have imagined, the place sparkled and glimmered with several Christmas decorations, yet, decorations that were tasteful and not tacky like the ones she'd seen in several lower class restaurants.  Several tables were placed around a large circular dance floor, and opposing the dance floor was a pianist, a cello player, and a drummer – the music was a rather lively rendition of a Frank Sinatra song she'd heard before, but couldn't name.

             They were shown to their table, a large circular table, a tall pillar candle lit the table slightly against the dim room, the candle surrounded by a garland of holly leafs and berries.  Rogue looked to the table nervously, noting the abundance of forks, knives and spoons in one setting, she'd never been taught how to dine in fine society and felt slightly embarrassed, wondering what knives and forks she would use for which part of which meal.

             "Don't worry," Hank noticed Rogue's concern, he pulled her chair out for her and let her sit, pushed it in for her.  "When its time to eat, I'll tell you which fork to use," he smirked a little.

             "Wow, this place is so extravagant," Rogue looked up to the ceiling, the ceiling was so high, and several decorations hung from it.  A mirrorball hung above the dance floor right in the centre, dappling its sparkling lights across the people dancing.  "Is this one of those places where its like a hundred dollars for a bottle of wine?" She queried.

             Hank gave a soft laugh, the Professor answered, "try three hundred dollars," he remarked, "that's the least expensive wine," he smirked.

             Rogue pursed her lips together, she personally thought it was a waste of money to dine in such a place, but the Professor had expensive tastes, and besides, it was Christmas Eve.

             They ordered drinks first, Professor Xavier, Hank and Logan sharing a bottle of rather expensive wine, Remy and Rogue stuck with ordering Apple juice.  The menu came soon after.  Everything on the menu costing more than Rogue thought even the Professor should have been able to afford.  Rogue had Hank order her food for her, because she simply didn't know how to pronounce what she wanted.  Hank, Charles and Remy all ordered the food in French as if they'd been speaking French all their lives, as if it was their first and only language.

             Then came Logan's turn to order.  In very bad mispronounced French mixed with English in a thick broad and rather put on Canadian accent, he ordered his own food, and then afterwards informed the waiter, "French Canadian," as he pointed at himself.  Rogue laughed so hard she snorted apple juice down her nose.  

             As they waited, Rogue looked over at Remy wondering what was going on his mind, he looked bored, and agitated, he tapped his fingers absently on the edge of the table, which Hank had to tell him off for three times, Rogue had the sneaking suspicion he needed a cigarette – which is why right hand was so idle, there was usually a cigarette dangling from it. 

             The meal was wonderful, and tasted divine, and they all made pleasant conversation with each other – except Remy and Rogue did not speak to each other the whole time, simply ignored each other – which was fine by Rogue, except it did infuriate her that she felt he was doing it deliberately to make her angry – but she realised she was doing the same exact thing.

             "Would you like to dance, Rogue?" Hank asked, he gestured to the dance floor.

             "Hmmm, maybe later," Rogue made a face, she didn't like the thought of dancing near so many people with bare shoulders and arms, even though she was covered enough to avoid contact.  "it's a bit crowded out there right now."

             "Fair enough, but I'll hold you to later," Hank winked.

             "There's a bar here?" Logan asked.

             "In the next room…you can also smoke in there…"

             "I'm headin' there…" Logan stood up, taking the napkin from his lap and tossing it on to the table, "time for beer, c'mon you two," he nudged Hank and Professor Xavier, "I'll buy you a beer."

             Rogue smirked, the vision of Professor Xavier and Hank chilling out over a Budweiser amused her – she didn't picture them as beer drinkers.

             "Normally, I'm not a beer drinker," Professor Xavier took the napkin off of his lap also, "but it's Christmas, I think there's a time when I can make exceptions."

             "Will you kids be okay in here?" Hank asked of Remy and Rogue as he stood.

             "Fine," Rogue shrugged, realising because they were under age they wouldn't be able to go into the bar area.

             "We'll be back shortly," Professor Xavier smiled, and the three men left, leaving Rogue at the table, alone with Remy.

             There was an awkward silence, neither of them said anything.  Rogue sipped her apple juice delicately.  Remy took a pack of cards out of his pocket and spread them out on the table, using one card to flick them over skilfully, he completely ignored her.

             "You're such an asshole," Rogue stated.

             Remy scooped the cards back up and shuffled them skilfully with speed that any card gambler would have envied. "Excuse me?" He played innocent.

             "You tried to get me in trouble with the professor, that's what!" Rogue hissed.

             "You're paranoid," Remy remarked, "I was only messing with you," he stated with a smirk, he shuffled the cards absently in his hand, looking at her with a smug expression.

             "You've been in a bad fuckin' mood with me ever since we came back.  I said we'd be friends, Remy, but you've been acting like a real dick to me…" Rogue pouted.  
             "Do you mind lowering the tone of your language, Rogue?  This is a classy place," Remy stated calmly, he put the cards back in his pocket.

             Rogue looked at him, "Look, Remy, I just want things to go back to where we can get along again…" she sighed.

             Remy laughed incredulously, "get along?" he demanded, laughing his head off

             "What's so funny?" Rogue raised an eyebrow.

             "Marie, when have we EVER gotten along?" he asked, "We've always been fightin' since the moment we met," He reminded, "There's always somethin' we're fightin' about. We have never gotten along."

             Rogue realised he was right, although there had been moments where things had settled down between them, they had always been fighting about one thing or the other, whether it be how annoying he was or how he'd hurt her.  "Yeah, but who's fault is it that we're always fighting," Rogue asked, looking at him pointedly.  "I'll tell you who's fault it is – its yours."

             The laughter faded, and he looked at her, "You're blaming me?" His face twisted as if he were angry and hurt.

             "You don't think it is?" Rogue asked, disbelief crossing her face, "You did sleep with Bella Donna after all," she sat back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, folding her arms.  The music still played in the background although it almost seemed distant.

             "You are never gonna let me forget that, are you?" He demanded. 

             "It hurt me!" Rogue hissed.

             "Why am I the only one who ever gets blamed?  Nothing is ever YOUR fault, is it?" Remy asked.  "Well, look at it this way, Rogue," he got up, and took a packet of tobacco out of his back pocket, then sat back down and opened the packet, he began to roll himself a cigarette.  "Yes, I mighta slept with her, hell, I mighta even been the one to instigate it," he said, "And yes, I might have lied to you, and betrayed you or whatever else you wanna blame me for…" he ran his tongue lightly along the edge of the cigarette paper, rolled it adroitly, then looked at her, "But our break up is YOUR fault," he stated, and with this, he stood up, and headed towards the bar area.


	4. Chapter 4: What About The Baby?

Chapter 4: What About the Baby?

             Rogue had sat at the table on her own long enough, Remy had obviously left to go to the bar area so he could smoke.  She decided, underage or not, she was going there also, at least to find the Professor, Logan or Hank, at least someone to talk to, she would have even danced with Hank right then, even though she hated dancing.  

             She stood at the large archway of the wall separating the restaurant and dance floor from the bar, the bar area was juts as extravagant looking as the rest of the restaurant, except the smell of smoke and stronger alcohols lay heavy in the air, and Rogue made a face at its unpleasantness.

             Logan was standing at the bar alone, the Professor and Hank at a small table over half empty glasses of beer.  Rogue headed for the bar and put her hand on Logan's back, "Hey."

             "Hey, kiddo," Logan nodded, without even looking at her, "What's up?"

             "Not much," she sighed, "Remy's a pain in the ass, I hate him," she sighed.

             Logan ordered three beers as a bartender approached, Rogue leaned on the bar. "So, I take it you and the Cajun aren't an item anymore then?"

             "Not since we came back," Rogue sighed, she hadn't really relayed the whole story to any of the adults, it seemed to complex and embarrassing to admit that Remy had cheated on her – in his own sick way – with Bella Donna.  

             "What'd he do?" Logan ordered a wine cooler also.

             "Long story," Rogue sighed, she was surprised as Logan handed her the wine cooler, it seemed the most irresponsible thing he could have done was to hand alcohol to a sixteen year old girl in a bar.

             "Keep out of sight and don't tell Chuck," Logan smiled, "if the Cajun gets any more annoying, just pour it over him," he smirked.

             Rogue laughed a little, "thanks…" she wandered off, holding her glass, she took a quick sip and headed around to the corner of the bar at the other side so she'd be out of Professor Xavier's and Hank's sight.  It was there, she spotted Remy LeBeau and some woman – probably in her late twenties – chatting, faces quite close.  Rogue snuck a little closer, and listened in.

             "So…you're single…?" the woman was asking Remy, she was sipping on a blue drink through a straw in a tall glass. She had long curly brown hair, and brown eyes that twinkled in the overhead lights.

             "Definitely," Remy nodded, he seemed very interested in her, Rogue noted that even with the thick sunglasses he was wearing at that moment – obviously to hide his mutant eyes – he was definitely focusing on the woman's lips as she sucked on the straw, Rogue felt fury rush through her veins, they hadn't even been broken up a week and already he was flirting with some other girl – not even a girl, but a grown woman.

             "What do you do?"

             "I'm an antiques dealer," Remy replied, Rogue gaped at th elie.

             "How old are you anyway?" the woman asked of Remy, her eyes never leaving his face.

             "Twenty seven," Remy lied, he put out his cigarette on a nearby ashtray that was sitting on the bar, then took a sip of beer in the hand of the arm that had a cast on it, the cast showed through the sleeve of his suit.

             "What happened to your arm?" The woman asked, noticing the cast which started from the palm of his hand.

             "Oh, fractured it," Remy shrugged, "things get pretty wild in my bed," he smirked.

             Rogue frowned, she felt as if she would explode, she decided she couldn't help herself anymore.  She downed her wine cooler in one go, then rushed to where Remy and the woman were standing.  Before Remy had even the chance to say anything as to why Rogue had approached, Rogue slapped him hard on the face.

             "You bastard!" Rogue gasped.

             "Excuse me, do I know you?" Remy rubbed his cheek.

             "Remy I can't believe you're flirting with another woman!" Rogue gasped.

             "Do you know this girl?" The brown haired woman seemed quite displeased.

             Rogue suddenly came up with something so devious that she wanted to laugh, but instead, she remained composed, "what about the baby?!"

             "Huh…?" Remy raised an eyebrow.

             "I just gave birth to your second child a month ago and come here to find you trying to fuck other women!" Rogue lied, she could see the confusion contorting Remy's handsome features.

             "What…?" Remy asked, his voice also filled with much confusion and anger.

             "You said when I'm eighteen you were gonna marry me!" Rogue faked tears, "I only three and a half more years to go until then!  Why are you doing this to me?!  Do I not give you enough sex already!?!?  Is four times a night not enough."

             "Uhm, I think I should go…" the brown haired woman gave a look of complete and utter horror, she left with her drink her hand, disappearing out of a side door.

             Rogue smirked to herself and folded her arms.

             "That wasn't funny," Remy frowned.

             "Yes it was," Rogue smirked.

             "We're not together!  You had no right to do that!" Remy growled.

             "You had no right to sleep with Bella Donna…" Rogue hissed, and with that, she spun on her stiletto heel, and headed back to the restaurant and dance hall area.

             She'd sat at the table on her own for ten minutes, when Hank returned from the bar, he looked a little tipsier than he had previously.

             "Hank, I wanna dance," Rogue said, standing up, "c'mon."

             Hank seemed most surprised, but gave in, nothing would have gave him more pleasure than to dance with one of his students, especially one who right now, seemed to be having the hardest time in life.

             The dance floor was less busy, and the music seemed louder.  Rogue grabbed Hank's wrist and pulled him to the dance floor, he seemed almost weightless to her with her amazing strength, he let himself be pulled, and soon, they found themselves dancing.

             "So…are you going to tell me what Remy did…?" Hank asked of her, his large hand was on her side, his other holding her hand.

             "It's a really long story I'd rather not go into."

             "Rogue, I'm a teacher and I've also done several counselling courses, if you can't talk to me, who can you talk to?" 

             Rogue sighed, "its…I dunno, I don't wanna say it."

             "You don't trust me?" Hank asked softly.  "Rogue, I'm your teacher, your training instructor, and your friend…"  
             "Of course I trust you," Rogue sighed again, "its just…" she tried to find the words, "I'd rather sort it out on my own…if that's alright?"

             "That's fine, but just remember, I'm always here if you need to talk to me?"

             "Thanks, Hank."

             Rogue glanced past Hank's arm, seeing Remy sitting back at the table, looking into a half full glass of red wine, swirling it round in the glass absently, he looked distant.

             Hank glanced over his shoulder to see Remy, noticing her gaze upon him.  "Do…you love him?" he asked.

             Rogue looked back at Hank, "does it matter?"

             "Of course it does…" Rogue swayed with Hank, she tried to keep in time with the music, but kept falling out of time with Hank.

             "Do you think he loves you?" Hank asked.

             Rogue found it hard to discuss her love life with someone she'd barely held conversation with since he'd come to the X-Men. 

             "Sometimes," Rogue shrugged, "Other times…I feel like love is just a stupid game to him," she added.

             "Whatever he did…" Hank seemed a little confused, "do you think he had reason?"

             "Well, kind of…but I think he could have went around the way it was done a different way," she sighed, "could have avoided it…"

             "Have you tried discussing it?" Hank queried.

             "Of course I have," Rogue sighed, "every time I get near him I just feel like screaming at him…" she sighed, "I can't keep calm enough to talk to him civilised like," Rogue chewed her lip, she looked around behind Hank again, looking at Remy, he looked more melancholy that she had seen him.  His jacket was hanging on the back of the chair, his shirt sleeves were rolled up a little.

             "Why…don't you ask him to dance," Hank suggested, "and every time you feel like you wanna yell, focus on the music," he said, "and focus on the rhythm."           

             "That sounds kind of corny," Rogue admitted.

             "It works…believe me," Hank smirked, "now go get him…"

             Rogue drew her breath, "I don't think I can…"

             "Yes, you can…" Hank let go of her, "go get him, tiger."


	5. Chapter 5: Someone Like You

Chapter 5: Someone Like You

             Rogue approached the table slowly, her hands together, near her stomach, her heart thudding like a bass drum.  Remy sat at a side ways angle, still swirling his wine.  "I'm sorry," she murmured.

             Remy didn't even look up, he took a sip of the wine, "for?"

             "For…acting like that in front of that woman," Rogue looked away, chewing the inside of her cheek.  

             "Got you mad, did it?" Remy's tone sounded so strange, so empty.

             Rogue stood a few moments more, wondering how to word how she felt, but then, taking Hank's advice, she drew in a breath, "Dance?" she asked, reaching out her hand.

             "I thought you didn't ever want me near you again," Remy didn't glance up at her.

             "I never said that," Rogue sighed to herself, she rubbed her forehead a little, "I was mad…look, can we…can we please, just dance, and we'll talk about it…"

             "I don't feel like dancing…" Remy put his glass down, "I'm thinkin' of takin' off for home," he said.

             Rogue looked at him, "want me to come with you?"

             "I don't mean home as in the Mansion, I mean home as in New Orleans.  I'd be as well marryin' Bella Donna, wouldn't I?" he sounded as if he were giving up, it seemed so silly to Rogue he'd spend all this time avoiding marrying the woman and then talk about wanting to go marry her as if it was his only choice.

             "Do you want to be?" Rogue asked with a sigh, she felt now as if she'd argued about this with him a million times and it was tiring her out.

             "No," He said, "I'd rather be with you," he said sternly.

             Rogue sighed and sat in the chair next to him, "you were the one who made the ultimatum," She reminded, "Now or never, you said," she looked at him.

             "And you wanted me to wait two years," he raised his eyes to her, they looked lifeless, he looked strange, as if there was nothing behind those eyes.

             Rogue shrugged, "I guess we both made wrong decisions," she sighed.

             Remy turned as the band's song changed from a Tony Bennett song to a rendition of a  familiar one by Van Morisson – 'Someone Like You'.  He faintly smirked at the irony, "Y'know, this song…probably one of the most romantic songs in the world," he commented, "there've been times when I heard this and always thought it could have been written about you," he shrugged, "Cause all the girls I've been with…none of them compare, passing thrills, nothing more, but at the end of the day, I can flirt with any girl I want and I could have them all, but the only one I want…is someone like you," he clenched his teeth, he couldn't believe he'd admitted that after all the things that had happened this past few days.

Rogue looked at him, she reached out with one of her gloved hands, and brushed the hair away from his face, he turned and looked at her, his cheek against her hand now.  He pushed her hand away slowly.  "You're doing it again," he sighed, and stood up.

             Rogue also stood, "what do you mean?"

             "You lead me on…then just when I think I'm getting somewhere with you, you pull away…its like a hot and cold faucet bein' with you, I don't know when I'm going to be showered with warmth or coldness," he sighed.

             "Do you blame me?"

             "Sometimes, no," He said, "I know I've done some things that deserve more grief than you've given me," he walked a little around the table.  "But sometimes…I do blame you," he looked at her.  "You have it set in your head…that I have the power to control everything I do – or everything that happens to me, that I should automatically have the common sense to always make the right decision…jesus, Marie, sometimes the right decision isn't always apparent…and I make mistakes, and I'll admit it, I'm not perfect – but you seem to think you are!" his voice raised a little.

             "What do you mean?" She demanded with a growl.

             "I mean that I'll admit to my mistakes, I'll admit when I'm to blame, but you never take any responsibilities in your own actions!!" he hissed, "You make as many mistakes as I do in life – and life treats you the same way, you have no control over everything you do – you have no control over what decisions are the right ones, you just do what you do and get on with it – but never ONCE do you admit that you're to blame for your decisions – its ALWAYS me!"

             Rogue felt the anger rush through her, how could he blame her for this?  She was about to speak, but remembered what Hank had said, focus on the music, focus on the rhythm.  "Shut up and just dance with me," She grabbed a hold of his hand and took him to the dance floor.

             Remy followed, not sure why really, he was being truthful, he didn't really feel like dancing at all.  Rogue pulled his arms around her waist and put her arms around his neck lightly, and swayed.

             Remy avoided her gaze, "What we gonna do?" he finally asked after a moment.

             "About?"

             "About you and me…something is seriously wrong with us," he said, "We can't get along, we wanna be together yet at the same time, don't wanna be, we get so angry at each other, and then get so sad, and end up repeatin' the cycle," he sighed, "seems like everything comes full circle…" he looked back at her finally, there were tears in her eyes.

             She looked away, her eyes misty, she quickly dabbed at her tears with her fingers, and blinked, trying to pull herself back together.

             He wanted to hold her right then, she looked so vulnerable, yet he didn't pull her closer to him.  He was caught staring at her, she seemed like a totally different person to the one she had when he'd first met her.  She'd become terribly bitter, and the more bitter she became the more untouchable and more desirable she seemed, and despite his anger with her, his disappointment with her, and his hurt, he still wanted her, perhaps more than ever.

             "You're right…" she finally said.

             "Hmm?" he asked, he'd been lost staring at those dark green eyes of hers, lost in his thoughts, and in her beauty.

             Rogue drew her breath, "it was my fault…" she looked at him, "It was my fault we fought about the drugs I got from Pinocchio…its my fault that I absorbed the powers of Miss Marvel…not yours…" she looked at him, "I…I've not been facing the responsibilities of my own decisions," she blinked, tears spilled again.  "I make mistakes too…"

             Remy gave a vague nod, he didn't want to agree with her too much, lest she grow angrier with him than she had been.

             "And…its my fault…that we broke up," Rogue looked at him, "You were right about that," she nodded, "But…it's your fault…that we can't get back together now…" she sighed.

Remy gave a snort, "you break rules for everything else," she said, "why not this?"

"I break Xavier's rules," Rogue stated, "I don't break yours," she looked at him, "the only one who can break that one is you," she shrugged.   the song ended, and she stopped swaying.  She realised how incredibly late it was getting, and the others were by the table and they looked as if they were ready to go.  It seemed that now was not the time for this conversation anymore – perhaps there would never be a perfect time. 

Remy grabbed his jacket, and slung it over his shoulder, and they left the restaurant, outside, the snow was coming down heavier, and the wind was whipping crazily around them.  

"Wow, it's gettin' colder out," Rogue shivered, she wished she'd brought a jacket.

Almost, as if Remy had read her mind, she felt him put his black jacket around her shoulders, she smelt his cologne upon its collar and breathed in, it filled her, and she almost felt as if she were high on a drug.  

They climbed into the limo, Professor Xavier's wheelchair being folded and placed in the trunk.  Once they were all inside, Professor Xavier spoke, in a slightly drunken lilt, "did you all have fun?"

He sounded as if he were a parent having taken kids to the zoo, Rogue had to smirk a little, "yeah," she said distantly, she glanced out of the window, "Wow, look at all that snow…" she sighed, "I've never seen so much snow."

The snow was so thick outside that even the sky itself seemed white, the snow on the streets glittered in the orange street lights.

Remy, who was wedged in the middle between Rogue and Hank, leaned over her slightly to look outside, his chest pressed against her back, she closed her eyes, through his jacket she could still feel his heart beating.  "White Christmas," he said.

"Christmas eve," Rogue remarked.

"No, seriously, its Christmas," Remy showed her his watch, it was one minute past midnight.

Rogue smirked a bit, and continued to look out of the window, the fact that Remy was speaking to her in this way made her feel somewhat forgiven – at least they were on talking terms again.  

"You two look like you've made up," Hank remarked.

Remy glanced over to Hank, "it was just a stupid little fight over nothing," he stated calmly.

Rogue glanced to Remy and gave a nod, then looked at Hank, "nothin' serious," she shrugged, then looked back outside the window.  "Nothin' serious at all…" she sighed, still feeling the ache of what he'd done, and she wasn't sure how things would go from then on, but she let it slide – for now.  At the moment, in the limo, life was…blissfully normal.


	6. Chapter 6: Remplissez Mon Coeur De Votre...

Chapter 6: Remplissez Mon Coeur De Votre Amour

             Returning home, Rogue headed for her room, without saying another word to Remy LeBeau, she simply excused herself, said good night, and went into her room, the smell of incense still thick in the air, the drapes wide open, the snow drifting outside, the view breathtaking.  She lit a few candles, and then sat on the windowsill, and stared out of the window, still wearing her dress, and huddled in Remy's jacket, still enjoying the scent of his cologne, and the fabrics warmth on her skin.  

             It was some time later – maybe about forty minutes that there was a knock at her door, "Marie, are you decent?"

             The voice had been muffled, but the fact her first name had been used let her know it was Remy – he was after all the only one who knew her real name.  She licked her lips, "c'mon in," she said, she kept her eyes to the window.

             Remy entered, "I…"

             "Oh, I have your jacket," she said, as if she had only just realised, she pulled it off slowly.

             "That wasn't why I came," he said, he closed the door quietly behind him.  

             Rogue turned to him, holding out the jacket, he took it from her and put it on the bottom pillar of her bed.  "Something wrong?" she asked.  She took a good look at him in the candle light, she couldn't figure out why at first, but there was something different about him, something she couldn't quite place.  He looked handsome as ever, rugged as ever, yet, suddenly a lot more boyish, something was very altered about his appearance.  It wasn't that his long hair was now out of the ponytail and hanging in silken tresses around his long chiselled face, it was something else.

             "You…you shaved off the goatee," she gaped.

             "Yeah," he said, he rubbed his chin, "you did…want me to didn't you?"

             Rogue looked at him, "You did it for me?"

             Remy shrugged, "Had to sacrifice something – and I couldn't part with the cigarettes," he came over, and held out a tiny parcel wrapped in silver holographic paper, a ribbon on it.

             "What's this – the hair?" she asked, "You didn't put them in a box in wrap them did you – that'd be kind of gross," Rogue made a face.

             "No, its your Christmas present," Remy rolled his eyes, "open it."

             Rogue slowly untied the ribbon, and unwrapped the parcel, a red velvet box was inside.  She opened up the box slowly.

             A silver engraved cross was inside, the edges detailed with tiny flowers and swirls, the engraved writing on it said 'Remplissez mon Coeur'.  She picked it up and turned it around, on the other side it said, 'de votre amour,'.

             "It's beautiful…" Rogue trailed off, she looked at him, "what does it mean?"

             "He took the cross from her and unclipped the chain, and carefully put it around her neck, "fill my heart with your love," he murmured.

             "Remy…" Rogue felt like she might cry.  

             He looked at her, "got it in the big easy months ago, was waiting for the right time to give it to you, Christmas seemed appropriate."

             Rogue stood up, "I have something for you…but I didn't wrap it because we weren't really talking…" she looked at him.

             "That's fine…" he trailed off.

             Rogue went into the drawer of the dresser nearby and pulled out a small plastic bag, she handed it to him, "I couldn't afford much, not with all the others I have to buy for in here," she explained.

             "You didn't have to get me anything…" Remy reached into the plastic bag and pulled out his gift, a silver tobacco case, what he found amusing about it was the ace of hearts that had been stamped into one corner, "wow…" he trailed off, "this is…wow…" he had seen more expensive tobacco cases, but none of these would have compared, it was from Rogue, it was different, it meant something.

             "Like it?" Rogue asked, she sat on the edge of her bed.

             "I love it…" he opened it up, "wow, a little slot for papers and everything," he sounded impressed, "I really do love it…" he looked at her, "Its perfect…"

             Rogue put her hands primly on her lap, an awkward silence had fallen.  "We've been really stupid lately," she sighed.

             "Yeah, I agree," Remy put the tobacco case on the dresser and sat beside her, "at least we're talking again," he admitted.

             Rogue glanced over to the window, "snowing heavy out there, isn't it," she changed the subject.

             Remy picked a piece of lint off of her thigh, it had shown up well on the black velvet, Rogue looked at him as if he'd tried to get away with something he shouldn't have done.

             "Lint," he put his hand up in defence to show her.

             Rogue nodded, then looked away again.

             "Do you wanna go for a walk?" he asked, "nice out there."

             "I'll freeze my ass off," Rogue remarked, "Besides, I'm not really dressed for it."

             "True," Remy nodded, he looked around the room, "Is that jasmine," he sniffed at the air.

             "Yeah," she nodded, "I burn jasmine incense all the time."

             "I might borrow some from you, my room stinks of smoke."

             "Stop smoking then," Rogue commented.

             "If I did I wouldn't have a use for that tobacco tin," Remy remarked.

             "When did you start rollin' your own?"  
             "Its cheaper," he gave a shrug.

             "Since when did you care about price?  You're a thief, you could probably steal cigarettes."

             "I'm not a thief anymore," Remy reminded, he rubbed his leg nervously, not sure what to say to her, or how to act around her at the moment.

             "I…still have the serum…" Rogue said, she reached to her bed side cabinet and opened the little drawer, the 80ml bottle rolled inside the drawer, the liquid a bright blue, "You stole that," she reminded.

             "Force of habit," he ensured, "this too shall pass."

             Rogue smirked a little and shut the drawer, "we could use it you know," she looked at him, "tonight…"

             "No…" Remy shook his head, "Not a good idea…"

             Rogue was surprised, "what, you don't mind having sex with Bella Donna, but when its me you won't?" she snapped.

             Remy held up his hands in defence, "its not that, really," he sighed, "its just…" he stood up and walked over to the window, leaning on the windowsill, looking outside, "I keep thinking…y'know, I did it when I was young…and it was a massive mistake…" he glanced at her reflection in the window, "and you're only a year older than I was…" he added.  

             "But it wouldn't be a massive mistake," Rogue commented.

             "Chere…we just had a massive fight a few days ago, and now only on the brink of a reconciliation…do you really wanna fuck me and then wake up on Christmas morning knowin' we did it too soon?"

             "It wouldn't be like that…" Rogue sighed.

             "If its not going to be that way, then we can wait, at least until a period where we've gotten along for a REALLY long time and everything is fine and there are no hard feelings between us anymore," he said, "just to be safe…"

             "Remy…"

             "What?" he asked, he came back over and sat on the bed, a distance between them this time.

             "Every other woman in the world it seems has had you – I haven't even kissed you without drainin' your powers…" she sighed.

             "There's a time for everything," Remy shrugged, "No, you were right when you said we should wait, remember, on the jet back home?" he asked, "lets…do that…lets be friends, and date occasionally, and then…we'll see what happens?" he asked of her.

             Rogue looked at him, "ok, I feel like screaming at you so much right now," She sighed, and she rubbed her forehead.

             "Remember the time we were talking about sexual tension?" he asked.

             "Yeah," Rogue nodded.

             Remy stood up and smirked, "that's it," he gestured, to her, "night chere…" he blew a kiss, then left the room after picking up his gift from her.  The door closed behind him and Rogue tossed the pillow at him.  She muttered a string of swear names at him, that he couldn't hear, but smirked.  "Smart ass," she finally stated, she took one more glance at the bottle of serum in her drawer, and then smiled to herself, some day, it was going to happen.

The end…or is it?


End file.
